


There You'll Be

by mandaree1



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon)
Genre: Because I love goose gosalyn, But it's not seen as a bad thing, But they're teens, Fearing for the future, Questioning, Robots, Silly, Teen Ducks, The Muddlefoots being their awesome selves, They love each other as buds, Unrequited Crush, Well technically I refer to Gos as a gosling, slice-of-life, supportive families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-01 03:49:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15765999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandaree1/pseuds/mandaree1
Summary: Growing up and growing older sucks. It doesn't help that Drake's been building an evil robot.





	1. Wake Up Call

Honker slept best when his window was unlocked. Avian Way wasn't a very dangerous part of St. Canard, save for the odd hockey puck or baseball flung by the Mallard family, so it wasn't an uncommon practice. But, unlike others, he kept his window unlocked for one gosling in particular. That proved to be a wise idea one hot summer night.

Honker was a heavy sleeper, conditioned from years of Tank's snoring, so he didn't hear the window sliding up. He didn't catch when a shoe rested on the ledge, making it creak ominously. A quiet swear didn't even register. The figure quick lost her footing and fell into his room, landing with a thud and a groan, and  _that's_  when he woke up.

After years of helping superheroes, not much got to Honker anymore. He sat up and slipped his glasses on. "Gosalyn?"

Gosalyn, having fallen flat on her face, gave an unsteady thumbs up. "Howdy, Honk-man. Mind if I stay the night?"

"Did something happen?"

She rolled onto her rear. Even in the dark, Honker could see the dark stain on her jersey. "You could say that, yeah."

Honker slipped out of bed, helping her to her feet. Gosalyn, allowing herself a moment's weakness, leaned on his side. "How much of that is yours?"

"Pretty much all of it. You still got that med kit in the bathroom?"

"Yup."

She waved her hand. "Lead on, Macduff."

The med kit, ironically enough, had been a prize won at a Quackerware employee party. Apparently, there had once been a mix-up of deliveries, and from it came a limited addition kit. Herb proudly showed it off whenever they had quests over, between the book full of various baby photos and Binkie's garden. It included band-aids, rubbing alcohol, and a couple of rash ointments.

Well, it did, anyway. But that was before Gosalyn Mallard stumbled into their lives. Now, after patching up a cut along her side, there was just the ointment. It wasn't like they'd had reason to open it, so it had gone unnoticed for quite some time. Honker just prayed his father wouldn't be too disappointed when he found out his relic wasn't worth the five bucks it had once been.

"Sorry 'bout this," she finally gets around to saying, dragging her jersey under the warm water of the sink. A dab of dish soap and it was ready for the washer. "I fell on a pipe while dad was snarking out Megavolt, and you know how he gets." She shrugged. "S'just easier to come here."

Well, yeah, Honker thinks. Of course it's easier here. Her father isn't worried out of his mind here.

And he understands. He does. Mr. Mallard is a good enough man, but he's always been a worrywart when it came to Gosalyn, and whenever she got hurt it was like the next apocalypse had hit his spirits. He'd mope for  _days_ , wailing and raging about his uselessness, how a hero that couldn't protect his own kin wasn't a hero at all. Gosalyn would ultimately get better, and he'd ultimately get his confidence back. It was just the in-between that sucked.

Honker let out a long, sweeping sigh. "Alright. You can stay." She hadn't asked again yet, but they both knew it was a matter of time.

Something resembling a smile cut across her beak, sharp with leftover sting from the rubbing alcohol. "Thanks, Honk. You're a lifesaver."

That leads to them sprawling out on his bed, Gosalyn shoving herself into as tiny a corner as possible (an old instinct, drawing back to hiding the sensitive parts of herself) and Honker flat on his back, snoring. He woke up to the bright sunshine of noon, Gosalyn flopped across his chest, and Tank cackling as he takes a photo.

"Hiya, Tank," Honker says, with that defeated tone he reserved for his brother. "How much homework is it gonna cost me to get that from you?"

"You kidding?" Tank snorted. "I could get way more mileage of humiliation with it than without. Keep the homework."

That's not a good sign. "I'll give you money," he offered next, feeling panic rise in his chest.

"Tempting, but nah. This'll be plenty, thanks." His brother curtsied with a sadistic grin before heading out of the room. Honker can hear him thumping down the stairs. "Mom! Dad! Gosalyn and Honker are sleeping together!"

Honker winces at the phrasing. He knows Tank well enough to know it's intentional. Though he and his friend were only fifteen, it had been his brother's goal in life to hassle them endlessly about some nonexistent relationship, and now he had the circumstantial proof to start a rumor. As if they didn't already have enough of them, tagging along with Darkwing Duck. "Gosalyn, you might wanna get up."

Gosalyn responded by kicking his leg. Honker shook her until she reluctantly sat up. "This better be good."

"Tank took a photo of us sleeping."

"Creepy, but not good enough. I'mma go back to sleep now."

"He's showing it to my parents, Gosalyn."

"Uber creepy, but-"

"He's making it into a sexual thing, Gosalyn."

She finally cracked an eye. "That boy's fixin' to die." Gosalyn languidly stretched, flinching when her cut complained. She looked down at her shirt- which was actually his shirt, seeing how her's was bloody. "Oh, man. We're totally in for a talk, aren't we?"

"Probably."

"You have no idea how tempted I am to crawl back out the window rather than look Herb Muddlefoot in the eye and let him think I had sex with his son."

"Crawl? I'd jump if it wouldn't break my legs."

* * *

"Herb Muddlefoot Junior," Binkie said as she stepped into the laundry room. Honker startled, slamming his head into the dryer ceiling. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Drying." Honker straightened, rubbing the back of his skull. "Gosalyn's shirt got bloody."

"Did it, now?"

"Yeah. She fell on the gravel. Then she got all worried about Mr. Mallard getting overprotective, so she crawled in through my window."

Binkie raised an eyebrow.

"Whatever Tank told you was a lie. I swear."

The canary puffed out a sigh, squeezing past him so she could get to the washer. "Tanks always did have a big imagination," she replied. "Remember when he thought he saw the lettuce in the fridge moving?"

"So you believe me?"

"I believe both of you aren't quite saying what's on your mind." Binkie studied one of Herb's stained up work shirts with a grimace, shoving it in. "Y'know, when  _I_  was your age, my parents gave me quite a long talk about abstinence. Scared me half to death with talk of sin and other stuff."

"Mom," Honker groaned. " _Please_  don't give me a long talk about abstinence."

"Oh, honey, I wouldn't do that to you. Your generation ain't nothin' like your father and I's." She gently patted his shoulder, unaware of how desperately Honker wanted to sink into the floor. "Don't be afraid to come to me with questions, okay? Or protection. Definitely gonna need some of that. Also, next time, could you wait 'till we're out of the house? It's just polite."

Honker slammed his forehead into the dryer, which was beginning to vibrate. "Why can't a guy and a girl have a sleepover without someone accusing us of doing- well, doing  _adult stuff_?"

"Because people are nosy by nature, sweetie, and most of 'em like to tease."

"Thanks, mom."

"Anytime, sweetie. Now scat. I'm sure your girlfriend is missing you."

He found Gosalyn at the kitchen table, having an ironically familiar conversation with Herb between bites of cereal. "Oh, no, I believe ya', Gosarooni," he said, with an obnoxious wink to Honker. "I just wanted ya' to know that, no matter what does or doesn't happen, we see you as family. Ain't nothin' gonna change that."

Gosalyn's bored gaze swept over to him. "You think if I rip the band-aids off they'll get the hint?"

"Please don't," Honker pleaded, sitting down across from her. "We don't have a lot left."

"Honker, my boy!" Herb gushed. He laughed as he gave the teen's back a hardy smack. "The Drakster just called. He wants you to head over to his place after school."

Honker paled. "You didn't... tell him what Tank said, did you?"

His father shrugged. "I was so proud- got teared up on the phone and everythin'. How's I supposed to know it was a secret?"

"Nice knowing you, Honk." Gosalyn lifted her bowl to drain it of leftover milk, the hint of a smile on her face. "It's your turn."


	2. Get The Hitting Thing

There's a lot Honker can do that most kids his age can't. He knows how to sew, for one. Cloth and skin. He has a working knowledge of how to ride a motorcycle, despite not even having a learner's permit. He can face death and fire and other unpleasant evildoer-related things with a decent amount of bravery- a little shivering, a little worry, a misguided attempt at snarking, that type of thing.

For all that, he's never grown past calling Mr. Mallard, Mr. Mallard. It's less about him being Darkwing- that's still really cool and all, but Honker's known that for years, and seeing a grown man get chomped on by plastic teeth, singed by fire, and otherwise humiliated on a day-to-day basis took some of the wonder out of it- and more about him being able to finagle Gosalyn into something even somewhat like order. That he got up every day and enforced rules that she abides by- even if rarely- is far more impressive.

Even still, there's a startling moment of clarity when Drake stands and marches over to him in the middle of the lair, surrounded by technology of various levels of classification labels; the kind where he remembers he's almost a full head taller than him. There's a bit more meat to his wings, true, and Honker had inherited the beginnings of his father's paunch, but  _Darkwing Duck_  has to crane his neck a little to meet his eye in any way that's intimidating, and that's an eye-opener if ever.

"Honker Muddlefoot," he thundered. "If that _is_  your real name."

"It's not, sir," he replied. "It's a nickname."

"Aha!" There's a finger right in front of his beak, jabbing wildly. "So you admit to being deceitful by nature! Not good enough for my baby girl, that's for sure."

" _Dad_ ," interjects Gosalyn, setting a hand on Honker's shoulder. She's even taller than him, with muscles from head to toe. Her hair, once in tiny pigtails, had been chopped and diced into an awkward bob, and he was fairly sure people were more scared of her than they ever would be Drake Mallard or Darkwing Duck, which is a wise decision. "We didn't bump uglies."

" _Language_!"

"Tank's just being his usual butthead self and spreadin' rumors."

"I knew that!" Drake defended, finally dropping the pointer finger. "But do you realize how horrible it was to hear  _Herb Muddlefoot_  crying over the fact that my precious baby was caught in bed with his  _son_?"

"My mom offered to buy me condoms," Honker chipped in, then felt his face heat up as both Mallards swung around to look at him incredulously. "What? I- I thought we were sharing humiliation stories."

Launchpad was halfway under the Thunderquack, so they had no read on his face, but he sounded fairly elated. "Boy, that was sure nice of Binkie. I wish my pops had been that understanding."

"I refuse to believe you've procreated," Drake said. Launchpad laughed. "Young lady, you shouldn't have snuck off in the first place. I was in the middle of a battle with Megavolt! I got some great zingers in! You missed my zingers!"

"Sorry, dad. I got the urge for a sleepover."

He put his hands on his hips. "You can lie better than that."

"You right, you right." Gosalyn sighed and yanked up the corner of her jersey. "I kinda fell on a pipe. There. I said it."

Drake gasped, putting a hand to his bill. "Oh, honey-"

"No! No, we are not doing this."

"You got hurt, and instead of coming to me-"

" _I just said no_."

"You crawled all the way back to the Muddlefoots?" Tears welled up in his eyes. "Oh, what kind of father am I?"

"One that's gonna be tarred and de-feathered if he doesn't stop that pity party right now," she snapped. "I'm fine, okay? It was no big deal. Quiverwing Quack isn't afraid of a little blood."

Drake sighed, shaking his head. "Gos, I can't lose you." He grabbed her shoulders and squeezed. "You're the only family I've got. Well, you and LP."

"Thanks, DW!"

"As much as it pains me to admit, I'm getting older. I can't watch out for you like I used to. This just proves it." He cleared his throat. "So, I've constructed a robot sidekick to help protect the city!"

Gosalyn's face fell. "Dad, what did I say about putting evil robots in a duck's business?"

"You don't know if it's evil," Drake said, just as Honker said; "Actually, applying morality to a mechanical being is an incorrect way of-"

"Of course it's evil! Every ding dang robot we've brought into this house has ended up being evil. This'll be no different."

"How can you say that? You're the granddaughter of a great builder! Professor Waddlemeyer made some of the greatest robot advances of our time!"

"And he's six feet under 'cause of it." Gosalyn grabbed Drake by the sweater, yanking him closer. "Dad, what'll it take for you to just _trust me_   _to know my limits?_ "

"This isn't about-"

" _You can lie better than that_."

"At least look at it, alright?"

"Fine." She crossed her arms in a pout. "But I don't gotta like it."

Gosalyn, indeed, did not like it.

"It's a top, dad," she spluttered, giving it a kick for good measure. It had the typical purple and black design of Darkwing Duck, but Honker is reminded of Quackerjack nonetheless at the toy quality to its shape, complete with a stern unibrow over two slots that look a bit like eyes. "What the heck."

"It's built for optimum storage," Drake corrected.

"Mr. Mallard?"

"Yes, Honker?"

"Where did you get this, exactly?"

"Why, I built it myself." He puffed out his meager chest. "Yup, yup, yup. I've been studying mechanics in my free time, hoping to gain the advantage against my more gadget-geared adversaries. I recently decided to put it to use in another way."

"I helped," Launchpad added, wiping some grease off his hands with a rag. "I even added the face! It's supposed to make the bad guys feel, well,  _bad_."

"So it's guaranteed to be evil  _and_  defective, then." Gosalyn's beak twisted into a disgusted and grim scowl. " _Laaaaaame_."

"Not every robot is evil!"

"Honk, what're the chances this thing turns out evil?"

Honker adjusted his glasses. "I'd rather not do that math. I like coming over too much."

* * *

Things settle into a form of routine after that. As much of a routine as it gets in the hideout of a superhero, anyway. Honker does his homework while Gosalyn pretends not to have any, shooting arrow after arrow at an old target. Gosalyn had always been talented with sports, but there was something special about archery, and it was impossible not to admire her skills.

...Except, of course, that her father was watching over her like a hawk, and the  _last_  thing Honker needed was more accusations being thrown his way.

The sun slowly began to sink into the bay, hefting shadow upon shadow into the room like moving boxes in apartments. There's more than a few lights strewn throughout the hideaway for just that very reason, but Drake had always preferred to keep them low for mood purposes.

For once, Gosalyn doesn't pester to go with when the first emergency call comes in for a robbery. Small potatoes, she'd scoffed. Honker knows her well enough to know that just means trouble; and, sure enough, they're hardly out the door when she turns to him with a devious smile and says, "Get the bats."

"There's no plural here, Gosalyn. There's only one bat."

"Then get yourself a hitting thing and get  _me_  the bat."

Honker found a hammer amongst the tools Launchpad had left behind, hooking it into his belt like he's seen mechanics do in the movies. The bat in the back closet is old, full of splinters from daily use; years and years of various sports games played in the backyard. Gosalyn had a much nicer one at her house, he knew. This one was solely for defense- a brutal, simple solution should someone come in while Darkwing was away. It'd always seemed silly, to Honker. It's not like they don't have lasers and other, more tactful methods.

Maybe she kept it around for evil robots. He wouldn't put it past her.

"Nice," she said, testing it in her hands. "I'd just like to say that I didn't mean to disrespect Grandpa earlier. He did some pretty awesome stuff. And I... y'know. Miss him and junk." Gosalyn swallowed. "But dad's luck with robots  _not_  turning evil is worse than his luck at making good jokes."

"Are you telling me, or the robot?" Honker asked.

"Both," she said, then brought the bat down on the top's head. It folded with a crunching noise, reminiscent of dry cereal getting squished. "Is it really so hard for him to trust me? I get that he worries, but this is just dumb."

"The whole school is gonna think we're dating, you know."

Gosalyn glared at him over her shoulder.

"Sorry. I figured changing the topic would help."

"Just hit the stupid thing, Honk."

Honker pried some bolts off the machine, destabilizing it, while Gosalyn worked out her aggression on its top and sides. Professor Waddlemeyer had always been a sore spot for Gosalyn. Most things about her birth family were, but his passing was the softest. During their many years of friendship, Honker had only seen his photo three times. Gosalyn preferred to keep it hidden.

She was panting by the time she stopped, bat falling to the metal ground. It rolled away like a beast of its own nature, wounded and afraid. "I don't care," she said finally, with a little sniffle that screamed the opposite. "I don't care if dad doesn't trust me. I don't care if people think we're dating. I'm _gonna_  be Quiverwing Quack, and I'll be  _cooler_  than Darkwing Duck ever wanted to be, and they'll be _sorry_  they didn't believe me."

"I believe you, Gosalyn," Honker replied. He did. If there was one thing Gosalyn and Mr. Mallard had in common, it was stubbornness. She didn't back down, no matter what.

Gosalyn looked at him, green eyes tracing his meager height and the hand-me-down plaid collar shirt his father had gifted him. "'M sorry, Honk. I'm making this all about me again. You're in just as much trouble."

Honker smiled lopsidedly. The blush was back in full-force. "I don't mind if the other kids think we're dating."

She snorted and shoved his shoulder playfully. "Nerd."

He gingerly reached out to nudge the remains with his toe. "I think we may be in trouble."

" _Think_?"

"Downplaying helps my anxiety. Where are we gonna dump this?"

That smirk was back. "I know a good place."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even tell if this works with the first chapter or if the transition was too bulky, but it's a thing and I love the quips in it so here we go ya'll. This is my first go at Drake and I have to say, he's a lot of fun to write!
> 
> -Mandaree1


	3. Honker's Got a Crush

Gosalyn's special hiding place ends up being under her bed; which, if Honker's being honest with himself, is about what he expected from her. And- as she's quick to point out- it's not like her dad's ever dared so much as crouch to peek under it. For all his exploits, Darkwing Duck  _does_  have some level of self-preservation skills. The last to fully see its horrors was Tank, who'd thought it'd be a grand idea to hide there while playing hide and seek a few years back. To this day, Honker's older brother refuses to speak of his experiences.

"Well, that's done," Gosalyn says while retrieving her school jacket from the mess of clothes half-in and half-out of what technically counted as a closet. "Now we just need to shake down Tank for that photo."

"It's a bit late for that, I think."

"To stop it from spreading, sure, but deleting the original source'll help make the rumor seem unreliable." She sunk down on the bed next to him, wiggling a bit to see if the destroyed robot had left a lump. It hadn't. The void had swallowed up much worse than a robot top.

"It already seems pretty unreliable."

"How so?"

Honker shrugged. "We're kind of the nerd-jock trope, y'know?"

Gosalyn's beak pursed. "I like your nerdiness. It's cute."

"Thanks. Your aptitude with sports is really cool too. But some of the people who would believe a rumor Tank started would also be quick to judge us for that, so... they kind of rule each other out?"

"Judge..." She stared at her tennis shoes a second, thinking. "Wait. Are you saying people think we're gay?"

"Some of them?" He raised his hands uncertainly. "It never really bothered me. I... didn't think it bothered you either."

"Are you?"

"Gay? Gosh, I dunno. I don't  _think_  so." Honker's face turned a hot tomato red. He rubbed his thumbs together. "I've kind of know a girl I like a lot, sooooo..."

Gosalyn's eyes on him felt like tiny pinpricks of fire. "Is it me?"

Honker shrugged again.

She seemed to realize she was pushing too hard, deciding instead to lean on his side. "You're awesome, Honk. You know that?"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. And if anybody ever says you ain't, you call me, and I'll come beat 'em up." Gosalyn paused. "I dunno if I'm straight, myself. I've never put a lot of thought into it. I think... I'm kind of scared to? Like, what would dad say?"

"I think being gay is the least of his concerns when it comes to you, Gosalyn," answered Honker honestly. "I- I hate to take one of your phrases, but... I think you can lie better than that."

She scowled but conceded. "I know there's a lot to  _not_  like about me, Honk. I'm pushy. I don't follow the rules. I've thrown you, my best friend, into more than a few deadly situations-"

"I could've walked away from most of those," he reminded her. "I like the stuff we do. Even the stupid, dangerous stuff."

"Point being; I'm a hard pill to swallow. I don't mind- heck, I'm proud of it! But I want people to dislike me for _me_. Not because of who I might or might not like. That's, like, hate-cheating."

"If that was the case, though, it would be part of you, wouldn't it?"

It was Gosalyn's turn to shrug. "I dunno. Maybe?"

Honker made a calculated decision and gently elbowed her side to lighten the mood. "You're awesome, Gos. And if anybody ever says otherwise, you- you call me, okay? I'll... I'll give them a strongly worded retort."

That seemed to do the trick. The slightest hint of a smile fluttered across her beak. "Ooh, scary. Don't mess with the Honk-man. He'll retort ya' to death."

"I could've been in debate club, I'll have you know."

"You cry when someone gets hurt."

"Sensitivity has a place in debate too."

"I love ya', Honk."

"Love you too, Gosalyn."

* * *

Tank's waiting for them when they leave the Mallard residence. Well, waiting isn't quite the appropriate term, since it's clear from his helmet hair and skateboard that he's been doing other things recently, but he's leaning on the mailbox nonetheless as Gosalyn does her customary walking him home gesture.

"Hey, Tank," Gosalyn said flippantly. "I killed a robot today. It was almost as thick as your head."

Tank just smiles. "I just got a call from Mortimer Marquand."

Honker swallowed heavily, trying not to think about the kitten or his short debut as a super-villain. As far as he knew, he still had a crush on Gosalyn. It was hard to tell if he'd be nice since they were friends, or if he was in for return of Cat-Tankerous. "Why d'ya have Mortimer's phone number?"

"I don't," he admitted, slightly baffled as to how the younger kid had gotten a hold of him. "But word's gotten all across the school. You dweebs are the next hot couple. It's almost as good as actual popularity." Tank waved the photo- which seemed to have just appeared- lackadaisically. " _You're welcome_."

Gosalyn grabbed it from him, ignoring his outburst as she ripped it in half. "It amazes me that you two share DNA."

"What's that s'pposed to mean?"

"That you're as cruel as you are stupid."

Tank was used to such comments from Gosalyn, and was in too good a mood to be dampened by it. "Maybe. But at least I got the looks."

"Debatable," Honker coughed into his fist.

A wicked gleam entered Gosalyn's eyes. The kind that tended to make Honker just a little nervous, but he figured that it was good that at least one of them had some level of common sense. She leaned in, gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and shuffled back, displaying two middle fingers. "Betcha wish you had your camera now, huh? Well, too bad, you sad sack of feathers. That's the closest you'll ever get."

Honker was fairly sure he was blushing from head to toe. He buried his face in his hands. "Gosalyn, that's the literal opposite of help."

"Yeah, but he has to live with the fact he's got second-best blackmail material." She smirked, whirled on her heels, and confidentially walked back up the steps. "See you tomorrow, boys! And remember to bring betting money for our baseball game!"

For once, Tank doesn't take his irritation out on Honker. He stares up at the empty doorstep, flabbergasted, before finally grabbing his younger brother's shoulder. "Honk?"

"Yeah?"

"You're screwed, dude."

Honker finally plucked up the courage to peek between his fingers. He took his glasses off, realizing he'd left smudges, and started cleaning. "I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyy, it's done! At least, I think it is? There's no real start or end to this, I feel. It's more just an exploration of these kids as teens and how they interact with certain key characters. Which, tbh, is the kind of stuff right up my alley! I love writing about characters who grew up in odd positions like Honker and Gosalyn, and how they've developed because of it.
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> -Mandaree1

**Author's Note:**

> Eyyy, my first official multi-chapter DW 'fic (that I'm posting, anyway. I did do a drabble some time back)
> 
> Methinks this is gonna be a three-parter. It's mostly just gonna be about Gosalyn and Honker hating that they're growing older and people making baseless assumptions about who they are and who they wanna be.
> 
> -Mandaree1


End file.
